


i can feel a hot one

by turnyourankle



Category: Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-06-22 14:48:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15584268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnyourankle/pseuds/turnyourankle
Summary: There's something about the fresh air, music, beer and weed that just does something to Louis. But getting some alone time with Luke at Firefly turns out to be harder than expected.





	1. DAY 1

**Author's Note:**

> It seems the only way for me to complete this is by posting this in chapters. Even though it's not long. There's no real plot so worry not about being left hanging. Actual smut to follow...

“How private d’you reckon this is?” Louis asks as he leans over the makeshift balcony of their cordoned off VIP suite, his gaze first cutting to the stage and then down to the crowd. It’s early enough that it’s sparse, groups and couples meandering away towards the other stages, a few die-hards clinging to the fence already, others still cross-legged on the lawn farther away with fresh beer and snacks.

Luke joins him by the edge, they’ve been left alone for the first time since arriving into the fold of the festival so there’s no need to keep a distance. He bumps his hip against Louis’ as he nods towards the lines of people trickling into the grounds. “Did we walk in that way? Couldn't see up here from there, could we?”

“Hmm.” Louis hums, chewing at the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t paying that much attention, but he can’t recall being able to see into the suites, that’s for sure. He rests his weight on his elbows, fiddling with his wristband. They could get away with this, maybe, sneaking up here for a quick snog with a nice live band as score. The stage view is great-- wouldn’t be VIP otherwise, but-- “It’s so far away though.”

“Yeah, but that’s the point of privacy, innit?” Luke comments, leaning farther out, turning his ear to the stage where a band has just gone on, playing to the growing thicket of fans. “Sound carries well enough.”

Louis hums but doesn’t have time to respond before Calvin storms into the lounge again, heavy on his feet as he stomps in, shouting, “Oi oi oi!” followed by a smattering of fists against the walls. He keeps drumming against every flat surface available, shouting, “Monkey fever, monkey fever!” 

Louis sucks his cheeks in, turning against Luke with a tight smile. “Not private enough, I guess.”

Luke sniffs, turning to Calvin to ask, “Good tour?”

Calvin’s still wound up, voice tight and words rapid-fire, “Great stuff. The bars are great, there’s some amazing lounges. Got to see some of the load in too, the Monkeys’ stuff is _here_ \--”

“Yeah, that’s how load in works,” Louis comments only just a little bitter, and Luke presses his thumb against his shoulder. He’s not begrudging Calvin the joy of seeing them, hell, he’s stoked too, just-- Just he thought the whole point of going to a more obscure festival meant less eyes on _him_. 

Of course, he hadn’t thought of the lads’ unescapable enthusiasm as an issue until presented with this suite and their all-access wristbands.

Right on cue, Oli’s voice cuts through the room as well, “There’s a candy bar, lads!” 

Calvin rolls his eyes, as if a candy bar is too childish to bother with. Meanwhile he’s getting out of his shirt and trying on one of the two Monkeys’ ones he’s got, just out in the open, not a care in the world. “Yeah, a candy bar too. That’s a thing. Nevermind the free beer, or the loos. Candy.”

“More sugar is deffo what we all need,” Luke says and Louis smirks. He’s not as unaffected as he likes to pretend, clearly his enthusiasm has been dampened a bit as well. 

“Might cheer you up,” Louis teases.

“Ha ha,” Luke says with a chuckle and sticks his tongue out at him. “Don’t need to be cheered up, just need to adjust our _expectations,_ yeah?”

He’s right. There’s nothing to complain about, really. They’ve practically been handed the keys to the grounds; backstage access, open bars, food delivery while in VIP areas, access to actual loos and, well, candy bars apparently. And while the suite is reserved just for them, it’s for _all of them._

Sure, they could have the place to themselves for an hour or two if they could convince Cal and Oli to leave them alone, but asking for privacy is likely to have the opposite effect. Cockblocking has always been a hobby of theirs, and since they’ll all be staying in the same tent it's bound to continue. If they had any inkling that Luke and Louis wanted to get away from them, even for just an hour, they would plaster themselves to them, making it truly impossible to have any alone time. 

“Can I wear the other one,” Oli asks Calvin as he drops some Swedish berries into his mouth, gesturing for the Monkeys' shirt that Calvin discarded after trying it on. Calvin yanks it away from him, stuffing it into his waistband.

“They’re both mine.” 

“You can’t wear them both though, come on,” Oli whines and Calvin drops onto the sofa with a wide smile. “Buy your own, mate,” he says before picking up his beer. Abandoned earlier, it’s probably flat and warm by now, but he doesn’t blink as he downs the rest of it, staring Oli down.

“It’s like we’re the ones intruding on their foreplay,” Louis mumbles against Luke’s shoulder, and leans in harder as he shakes with laughter. 

“There might be some private spots backstage, no?” 

Louis sighs. “So much for outdoor fun, eh.”

Luke ignores him, asking Calvin, “What was backstage like? Any secluded tents or empty trailers?”

Calvin’s replaced his empty beer with a water bottle sucking at it, a frown lining his face. “Dunno really. Wasn’t looking for any of that.” He moves towards the door and calls out, “Myra?”

Myra, the woman who’d welcomed them and shown them to the suite steps in quick enough that she must’ve been stood right outside waiting to be called back. Otis, their assigned bodyguard, is probably out there as well, just hovering around the corner. All they need is for him to step inside and all parties will be accounted for. Definitely not as private as they want.

Her eyes drift to Calvin’s empty beer, and she scans the suite quickly before asking, “Did you want more to drink? We can send someone over to take your order if you’d like.” Her hand goes to her walkie right away, clipboard firmly clenched to her chest.

“Yeah--” Oli starts but Luke silences him with a hand against his chest.

“Actually we’re just curious what the situation backstage is, if we should need some more. Alone time? This is still quite in the open, if like, we get an important call, or something,” Luke adds, sounding a bit apologetic, eyes darting to Louis, as if waiting for approval on his roundabout question.

Myra taps her fingers against her clipboard. “We sometimes have some vacant trailers should the need arise. Since not everyone is here at all times but--” She frowns, starts flipping through her papers. “Do you need it now? I can check what’s available.”

“No, not now, thank you,” Louis says with a broad smile before pulling Luke against him. With Louis’ dismissal of Myra, Oli doesn’t waste a second springing to his feet and asking for more beer. They huddle for a second, Calvin joining in. They must be looking for a beer list of some kind as Myra flips through the papers on her clipboard. 

Louis has little interest in what they're doing, still intent on finishing off his and Luke's conversation so he mutters against Luke’s bicep, “We’re not using a sex trailer.”

“Oh, who’s a prude now?”

“It’s prudish not to want to be in an enclosed private space?” Louis snarks and makes to pinch at one of Luke’s nipples. He ducks on instinct, turning around so that Louis gets crowded against the wall, shielded from the others’ view. Not that they're paying attention at all, Louis notes after a quick look at the huddle. He bites his lip as he cocks his chin up towards Luke.

“I thought the whole point was to be private. Wasn't that why you wanted a _private_ suite?”

“The _point_ was to be alone. Not locked into some stinky, sterile hotbox.”

“How can it be sterile and stinky at the same time?” Luke asks, tugging at the hem of Louis’ shirt. Louis chances a glance at the others; still occupied by the door looking up beer lists, no doubt, no attention paid to Louis and Luke in the corner.

He licks his lip, head still tilted up he whispers into Luke’s ear, “It’s sterile going in, of course, all bright and suffocating. Bare walls, maybe a large mirror or two. But after having us in there? After getting on your knees on the hard fucking metal and sucking me dry? After begging for me to come on your face, even though you know we’ve got nothing to clean it with, just your shirt, that’s already grimy with sweat and spit. But what’s a little come after all that, huh?” Louis catches his breath when he finishes, and adds with relish, “How good do you think that trailer’ll smell after that?”

Luke’s gone stiff against Louis’ front and he holds in his breath, not wanting to break the tension with a nervous chuckle. Luke’s hand grips his arm, fingers pushing into the meat of it. Louis says, “Bet it would get stuck too, the smell. Would probably have to wear your come soaked shirt around all day. Baking in the sun. Smelling marked.”

“Soaked?” Luke teases, but Louis can tell from the way his jaw is clenched that he’s affected. 

“Only if it’s done right.” Louis bites his lip after that, taking a quick breath and leaning back, putting some space between himself and Luke. 

“Why am I the only one getting dirty in this scenario?” Luke asks, trying to detour the conversation.

“Because I’m the one who didn’t want to get messy in a trailer in the first place,” Louis says while digging his fingers into Luke’s ribs. “You can mark me up nice when we get that actual alone time.”

Luke puckers his lips, cheeks puffing with laughter. “Okay, but you’re making that sound hot now, so that backfired.”

“So you _do_ want to get messy for me? Interesting.”

“And you’d rather not be in enclosed spaces, even though the only alternative is being out in the wide open, surrounded by people, with no privacy at all,” Luke counters and Louis makes a feeble attempt at rolling his eyes. What ends up happening mostly is his eyebrows shoot up and he pushes his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Oh. _Oh,_ ;” Luke repeats and backs away a bit. It gives Louis a second of breathing room before Calvin catches their attention with a dramatic hand wave. 

“Hey, did you guys want Stella or Corona? Got both,” Calvin asks. Back deeper into the suite, he and Oli are cracking into a freshly delivered tray of beers. Enough to last them two rounds at least. 

“Corona,” Louis says without thinking, and slumps against the wall. Since Luke’s closer to them he bites the bullet and walks over, stiff shoulders and a back that looks tight for more reasons than one as Louis shamelessly tracks his movements. 

“You'd prefer being out there then,” Luke says more than asks, following it with a cocked eyebrow. It’s enough to make Louis’ breath catch in his throat even though he knows-- he knows Luke isn’t going to let anything slip. But it’s enough that they both know what the question is really for. He blinks slowly as Luke hands him a fresh beer. He asks Myra, "We can go out whenever, right?" 

“I thought you had privacy concerns?” Myra comments a slight frown appearing on her face. 

Luke leaves it to Louis to answer but he drinks instead, mouth sucking at the lip of the bottle. If Luke wanted to bring this up he’s on his own. 

“Just checking for all variables,” Luke manages to say, slowly, each word meted out carefully. “Is that a problem?” 

Louis wipes his mouth, sparing a casual glance at Myra’s frown before she answers, “Of course you're allowed out. Of course, not an issue. I mean-- That’s why we’ve got Otis for you. He’ll be trailing you whenever you’re in gen pop.” 

Louis blinks at that. With Otis on their heels it’ll be impossible to blend in altogether and get lost in crowd. “I really don’t thin--” 

“It’s non-negotiable,” Myra says with her most practiced smile, teeth gleaming sharply. No nerves at all for this rebuttal. Of all the ways she’s meant to be accommodating this is not one of them. Luke’s eyebrows are still raised as he looks at Louis, a weak shrug lifting his shoulders as he mimes ‘sorry.’ 

Not that it has anything to do with him. Not that he can do anything to change things. 

“Right. Okay. I think we’ll be good, then. Might head out later.” 

“Call if you need anything,” Myra says and salutes them, and even as they watch her leave, they can spot Otis lingering outside just waiting for them to step out. 

Louis sucks at the mouth of his bottle again, nearly finishing off the drink. “Well, this is going to be fun.” 


	2. Day 2

Louis presses the back of his hand against his forehead, queasiness alleviating the slightest bit as the cold water beats down his back. It’s cold enough to make his lungs ache, his breath sharpen, but at least it’s something different to focus on than his pounding head and fuzzy vision. At least the needling cold water is something outside of himself.

Even though there isn’t anything in the way of a queue waiting to getting into the showers, Louis isn’t too keen to stay in there for long with hunger nagging at the edge of his consciousness. Filling up his stomach is another surefire way to get rid of the nausea waiting to bubble over.

The one plus side of getting absolutely plastered the previous day, and the reason it happened in the first place, is that he wasn’t quite as focused on his lack of alone time with Luke in the moment. (And it’s not like he has much desire to think about it now.) Every time Louis had felt himself itching to pinch Luke’s arse or grab onto his waist or grind up against him he just took another long pull off of whatever drink was in his hand. It ended up being quite a lot, with his fists never being empty, drinks constantly replenished. It hadn’t been enough to throw up or blackout last night, but for today certainly enough to feel like his body is pulsing with every breath. 

He shakes out his hair before toweling off as best as he can and heads back to their tent, towel tight around his hip. Luke hasn’t returned yet, Calvin and Oli lounging on camp chairs with a cooler between the two of them.

“Hair of the dog?” Calvin offers, picking up a can that he quickly cracks open, without waiting for Louis to respond. 

Louis grimaces, shaking his head. 

“Turning down a breakfast beer. Must be old age,” Calvin comments as he hands the beer to Oli who doesn't hesitate to start pounding it right away, following it by a long burp. 

“You’re older than me,” Louis says, frowning as he heads into their tent. 

“Barely,” Calvin huffs loud enough that Louis can hear him. He doesn’t bother answering, busy pulling at his selection of shirts. He packed more clothes than he’ll be able to wear, and with only two days left to go it’s difficult to choose what to wear, and what will hold up the best in the heat.

Oli peaks into the tent, beer still in his hand, only to ask, “Too good for some leftover pretzels, too?” Louis only needs to tilt his head in Oli’s direction for Oli to raise his eyebrows with a laugh. “Otis is meeting us in twenty.” He drums his fingers against his beer, and pushes away from the entrance. 

“Right,” Louis mutters. Of course Otis is meeting up with them. He’d been inescapable the previous day, even as he hovered at a reasonable distance and didn’t seem to keen on eavesdropping he still announced their presence to everyone in sight. As the thoughts run through his head he pulls at his black shirt and shorts; might as well have his mood reflected in his outfit.

He can hear from the commotion outside that Luke has joined the group, and no sooner has the realization hit, his back going stiff, that Luke shows up, tossing his towel and change of clothes at the bed. He glances at Louis with a lick of his lips, eyes trailing down Louis’ body intently enough that he shivers. And then Luke leaves.

Louis takes a few seconds to collect himself, applying sunscreen more methodically than he has in his life. 

His eyes seek out Luke as soon as he steps out of the tent. His tired face and the damp hair matted against his forehead. Louis swallows with a heavy weight in his belly. Today. Today they have to pull this off.

Luke blinks before making eye contact, and a barely there smirk graces his face. Louis has to twist his mouth before he does something inappropriate.

He’s too bloody attractive for his own good.

“You guys match,” Calvin comments from the chair he’s slumped in, pointing at the two of them. 

Luke just shrugs, but it takes a second for Louis to register what Calvin’s talking about. It’s not the colour or the fit he’s talking about, but the stripes. It sets off a zing of panic within him, that this’ll be something on Calvin’s radar to bring up and bother them about whenever they try to sneak away. Oli is wearing stripes on too, Adidas trackies with the trademarked lines brandishing the sides and before he can filter himself, Louis turns to Calvin and asks, “Did you forget that’s the lad uniform?” 

Calvin’s head snaps towards him, before checking the others. “What?”

Oli looks slightly confused, but unwilling to admit to it when he’s apparently done something right without even knowing. “Yeah, we’re all s’posed to match today.”

Louis raises his eyebrows as if it should say it all. 

“I didn’t pack anything striped,” Calvin says with a frown.

Luke is close all of a sudden, his elbow bumping against Louis’ side. “Is this your grand distraction plan for the day,” Luke whispers, breath hot against the shell of Louis’ ear. He just shrugs in response, not particularly willing to admit he hasn’t quite thought it through. 

Calvin still looks distressed by the time Otis joins them, and they’re in for a quiet walk to the Coffeehouse, the grumbling of their stomachs and the crunching of their heels on the gravel the only sounds keeping them company.

Perhaps it’s the mellow energy, but Otis accepts Louis’ coffee offer, which certainly bodes well for later. He doesn’t protest when Louis leads them through the already gathering crowd to a patch of grass for them all to settle down, taking a standing position not too far from where they end up, too busy sucking at the straw of his iced latte.

They’re settled on the ground, spread in a half circle, when Luke says, talking of Otis, “I think he’s warming up to you,” as he pinches a piece of Louis’ freshly unwrapped smoked meat bagel. 

Louis doesn’t respond, just steals some of Luke’s coffee in turn, not wanting to touch the lox bagel he got, and not wanting to mix proteins. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he says, the heat scalding after drinking his own iced coffee, and Luke presses his thumb against Louis’ wrist as he takes his cup back.

“It’ll last longer.”

Louis scoffs, but the jokes on him because by the time they head over to the marketplace Luke’s still working on his first coffee while the rest of them are on their second cup of iced. Louis finishes his just before they get there, which just means he can use both hands to browse. 

Ironically enough this is where they get a modicum of privacy. Luke can press close against him as they rifle through scarves for Lottie, can tug one around Louis’ neck and tug him close enough that their chests bump against each other, and no one bothers them. 

Still, when Luke’s mouth grazes dangerously close to the skin of Louis’ neck, close enough for Louis to inhale sharply, he has to pull back with haste.

Luke frowns and he lets out a pent up exhale. Louis just shakes his head, reprimands, “I’m not the one who decided to wear white today like a bloody beacon.” 

Luke harrumphs at that before sweetly saying, “We match though,” as if it’ll change Louis’ mind, so all he can do is laugh, and look around them, just in case. 

Otis is still nearby, still visible from the corner of Louis’ eye, and Louis’ sure Calvin and Oli aren’t far either but-- everyone is so focused on the merchants, consulting each other and rifling through their purses and they’re all pressed so close that it becomes impossible to know whom Otis is there to watch, and so, no one is paying attention to them at all.

It hits him then, and Louis quickly squeezes Luke’s hand before letting go. “I’ve got an idea.”

Seemingly knowing he’s being talked about Otis inches closer, and Louis asks, “Otis, I’ve got to piss, you shouldn’t come, yeah?”

Otis blinks at him, eyebrows raised. “Thanks, mate,” Louis says patting his arm before he starts to stalk off, Otis closely on his heels.

Louis comes to a stop and leans back on his heels, waiting for the others to catch up. “Otis. No one knows which one of us you’re watching. Which is good, right?”

Otis doesn’t respond, hands digging into his pockets. Behind him, Luke frowns, chin tilting up with a hint of confusion.

Calvin doesn’t hold back a, “What?” face wrinkled in confusion. 

“He’s been following _us_ as a group. All of us together. No one knows which of us he’s really watching. So if I leave and he follows, makes it obvious, yeah?”

Calvin narrows his eyes at that, but Oli nods along, trying to predict where this is going.

Louis licks his lips before turning to Otis specifically. He shrugs. “S’less safe isn’t it? Them knowing exactly which one of us to target, should they care to,” he says, words measured and tone even.

He notices a slight shift in Otis’ expression at that. A slight twinge of his jaw is only perceptible because Louis is paying close attention, ready to pivot his argument if necessary. He’s thinking about it, at least.

“I don’t have to go alone, just sayin’... It’s probably better that you don’t come,” Louis adds to cinch the deal and he hopes that Luke understands what he’s trying to say from the way he enunciates.

He doesn’t have to do anything else though, Otis’ gaze quickly cutting between Oli, Calvin and Luke. “You’re going with him,” he says to Luke with a stern tone. 

As if Luke would protest.

Louis nods curtly trying to keep the smile off his face, nodding towards the porta-potty area and setting off, feigning a rush, pretending like he doesn’t care if Luke comes with him at all. But the victory bounces throughout his chest, the joy tangible in his chest, making every part of him buzz, right down to his fingertips. 

He chances a glance back to make sure Luke is following, and he is, a look of surprise still evident on his face.

Louis can’t help but laugh, smile splitting his face, and Luke catches up with him fully then, pushing his shoulder as they walk in step. 

“You turn down a trailer but porta-potties turn you on?” He asks, voice hissing with laughter.

“Even better,” Louis says with a dramatic waggle of his eyebrows. Luke frowns at him but Louis doesn’t bother elaborating, lengthening his steps as he keeps walking past the porta-potties, up an incline and into a thicket of trees.

As soon as they’re out of view he reaches for Luke’s hand, pulling him closer. He manages a quick kiss before Luke pulls away, turning and looking around them with thinly veiled panic.

“‘M still wearing white, you know.”

Louis rolls his eyes, and pulls him deeper into the woodlands until they find a tree with a sturdy trunk, branches hanging down heavily. “Here, lean against the tree, should hide you from view.” 

Luke still tries to look around them, even though from where they are they’re concealed enough by low hanging branches and it’s dark enough that even if they were to be spotted they’d just look like two unidentifiable bodies. The fog of Louis’ hangover has lifted, there’s no towering tank of a man waiting on them, they can sort of hear the distant bass and drum lines from the stage closest to them, they’re covered from the unrelenting sun, and they’re _alone_.

It takes one more kiss to have Luke giving in, his back slumping more easily against the trunk of the tree, and his hands clasping Louis face before they dip down to his waist. Little sounds from the back of his throat making Louis hungry for more, teeth grazing at his lower lip until Luke’s mouth drops open, tongue pushing against his.

With the way Luke is slumped their height difference is less pronounced and Louis only has to tilt his head to meet Luke’s lips, he can stay still, feeling everything, without having to get on his toes. The press of their mouths is steady, and Louis’ breath catches when Luke’s tilts his hips forward, pushing his groin against Louis’.

There’s a lot more they could be doing than snogging.

Luke whines low in his throat when Louis pulls away from him, lips smacking and wet with spit. He brings his finger to his mouth, instructing Luke to shush before he carefully drops to his knees, trying to avoid fallen branches and sharp rocks, his shins rubbing against the dry soil. He thanks his past self for dressing in black, the dirt less likely to be noticeable once they leave.

Luke blinks at him, awe in his eyes, and Louis smirks happily before nosing at his belly, fingers finding their way into Luke’s shorts.

Even over Luke’s shirt, Louis mouths hungry, sucking wet patches into the fabric until Luke tugs at it, lifting his own shirt and hips jerking into Louis’ touch.

It’s easy enough to pull Luke’s shorts down just enough for his cock to spring free, half hard already and ever so tempting. Louis grasps it easily, tongue licking down Luke’s happy trail as he firms up in his hand.

“Love how easy you are for me,” Louis says, low enough that Luke might not’ve heard, except he huffs, his fingers pushing into Louis’ hair. “Shhh,” Louis continues, making eye contact before he closes his lips around the head of Luke’s cock. 

After that Louis works on instinct, his own blood sizzling with each of Luke’s twitches and muted moans. One of his hands is down is own shorts, palm rubbing intently at his dick. He takes a deep breath before dramatically gurgling before the back of his throat is hit. He pulls back a bit, wet and sloppy, “Worth waiting for,” he says, angling himself so he can rub against one of Luke’s legs, and Luke groans. It’s loud enough that he catches himself and slaps his hand against his mouth.

Louis just laughs, stretching out his mouth wide before sinking it back down on Luke’s cock.

He’s not sure what’s hotter, that he pulled off their escape, that they’re out in the open with faint guitar riffs floating over from the main stage, or that Luke is trembling trying to keep quiet and still, fingers tight in Louis’ hair.

Louis lets go of himself, not too keen on coming in his shorts, and grips the side of Luke’s hips with burning fingers. With the other, he tightens his grip around the base of Luke’s cock, steadily working him over as he starts mouthing lower, pulling at the sensitive skin of his sac with his mouth. Luke twitches above him, a, “Shit, shit,” escaping, low enough that Louis own pulses speeds up at it. Nothing gets him off more than making Luke tremble under him. Expect maybe the reverse. 

Without warning, he pulls down Luke’s cock and suckles at the head mercilessly, until Luke tenses, fingers pulling tightly at his hair and his mouth going slack. Louis doesn’t have any choice but to swallow, so he makes a show of it, fluttering his eyelashes, and wiping the back of his hand across his lips dramatically.

It makes Luke groan, a louder groan than even when he was getting his cock sucked, and grips Louis’s hands, pulling him up and grabs his arse as he kisses him. 

Luke is sloppy, and he can definitely feel that Louis is still hard judging from the way he shifts and moves one of his hands over his bulge. Palm dry, palm hot, Louis reflexively pushing into the touch even though he knows it’s a bad idea.

“Luke…”

“Fuck, Lou--” Luke interrupts himself with another kiss, his fingers tightening against the outline of Louis’ erection, sending all his nerves haywire, his body wanting to slump into it easily, allow Luke to take charge and just make him come.

_Christ,_ does he want it. “Luke…” he starts again, face slumped against the side of Luke’s neck, the tangy smell of his sweat already notable, and he licks at the skin instinctively, a soothing motion he can’t help.

“Yeah, feels good doesn’t it?” Luke asks, turning so he can press a kiss against the crown of Louis’ head, and rucking his own shirt down a bit so Louis can move down to his collarbones. He can’t detach his mouth from Luke’s skin, hungry for every inch of skin he gets to taste. “There you go,” Luke soothes just as he slips Louis’ shorts lower. Louis can feel the air on his overheated skin, he wants to protest, that he’ll stain Luke’s pants, that they can’t make excuses for clothes splashed in come but he can’t, not before Luke shushes him.

“My turn, babe,” Luke says and Louis’ eyes just drift closed his frame boneless and slumped against Luke’s chest. The chest he can rub his forehead against, his waist that Louis’ hands find themselves against, fingers digging into his firm flesh as he gets worked over. As he grunts into Luke’s shirt, saliva leaving a trail as revealing as anything else.

Luke’s movements have grown more steady, hand tight against Louis’ cock, and his shoulder shaking with effort as he keeps both hands around Louis’ cock. He works him over expertly, fingers tight and glide smooth. 

“I’m gonna--” Louis starts before he has to push a silent scream against Luke’s neck, teeth making contact with skin as he comes. He can’t stop himself, shivers wracking his body and a curse at the back of his throat. “Fuck,” he mutters and pulls back, nearly stumbling backwards before he steadies himself. 

“Caught it,” Luke says with a triumphant grin, and lifts one of his palms up. Louis blinks at the sight, understanding but still not processing, until Luke brings his palm to his mouth and licks it clean.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Louis says, again, unblinking. 

“You’re welcome,” Luke teases, ruffling Louis’ hair with his licked clean hand, messing Louis’ hair until he pulls away and pinches at Luke’s nipples.

Still though, still, he just says, “Yeah,” not even bothering to tease Luke back. “I really am.”


	3. DAY 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took an embarrassingly long time to finish, so I hope it's worth it to everyone who's been following along.

The last day of any festival trip is always bittersweet; it’s often ushered in by a blistering hangover, heavy limbs from the ten hours of standing, the miles covered walking across the grounds. System slightly off from shitty beer being the main source of hydration while under relentless sunshine.

This time though everything is overshadowed by Calvin’s whinging. He’s still upset about being left out of the lads uniform planning -- still convinced that it was all a ploy to make him feel left out -- and he’s got himself a wicked sunburn, his cheeks an unnatural red, and a near constant wince on his face as he tries to stop himself from scratching at the tender skin on his arms and legs. Even the back of his calves got burnt, somehow.

So Calvin's determined that he get to steer their day as compensation for missing out on the stripey group fun. Not that it matters that much, ultimately, Day Three is the recovery day, the one typically spent lounging at a single stage and trying to hit all the food vendors you missed throughout the rest of the weekend. So the fact that Calvin wants them to visit the popsicle stand first thing in the AM isn't too much of a hassle. Louis wanted to hit them up anyway, and they’ve got a Vietnamese coffee pop made with real cold brew, and it’s just the right amount of caffeine for Louis to have first thing in the morning. Doesn’t hurt that a popsicle is the size and shape to suck on as he stares Luke down. He knows Luke knows what he’s doing, with the way he himself has laser focus on his banana pop. As soon as their eyes meet Louis sucks down his pop swiftly, and pops it out of his mouth with a flutter of eyelashes.

It’s quick enough that should anyone ask he can just blame brain freeze, or tooth freeze, or invent something else as a reason for his odd behaviour, but he knows, yeah he knows it works on Luke from the way he starts to cough in his hand. He takes a deep breath before putting his fist against his hip and narrowing his eyes slightly. 

“Are you alright?” Louis asks as Luke turns away, taking clear bite out of his popsicle, chewing on it with determination. Luke shrugs as his only response. “Chewing ice isn’t good for you, you know,” Louis bullshits, intrigued by Luke’s steely facade.

“Don’t want it to melt on me,” Luke answers, and Louis laughs. 

“That’s the best part innit?” Louis counters and intentionally waits for a bit of his popsicle to drip on the back of his hand. He licks it off demonstratively, observing as Luke’s nostrils flare and he doubles down on chewing on his own popsicle. He’s got nothing left but the stick now, gnawing it between his teeth. 

He continues like that until he’s got nothing but a stick left, gnawing it between his teeth. If he didn’t look so seriously rattled Louis would laugh, but as it is he tries to pull the stick from Luke’s grasp, and stuffs it into his back pocket to get it out of the way. “Y’alright there?” He repeats his question, and this time Luke stares right back at him.

“Are you? Are you trying to get us into trouble?”

“Are you saying you don’t want to get into trouble?” Louis huffs dramatically. “Seemed pretty happy about it yesterday, that’s for sure. 

“We're on Cal's schedule, Lou.” He shifts back onto his heels, the slight tremor of his voice evident. “It’s not like we can just run off again,” Luke whispers with urgency. 

“That's not a problem.” Louis sticks his popsicle right into his mouth again, mouth round and full as he winks at Luke, continuing the torture on purpose.

Luke raises his eyebrows at that, glancing back at Calvin where he's sat on the grass with a handkerchief draped over his head, covering his ears and and shrouding his face in shadow. “I don't think we can get away from this one.”

“Hey, Rodgers, didn't you wanna check out the Nook?”

-

 

The silent disco was on Calvin’s list of potential stops and since it was on the way to the Nook, the lads all diverted, leaving Otis standing next to the entrance, eyes squinting into the dark. They have a modicum of privacy in there; the flashing lights and the way the tent is set up allows for Luke and Louis to blend in really well, and most people have their eyes closed as they listen to the music pumping through their borrowed headphones. 

Louis’ has turned the volume down low, low on his enough so that he can hear the people shuffling next to them, can hear if someone calls his name. Despite the fact that they’re barely recognizable in this crowd, his pulse still roars in his ears when Luke’s hand brushes by his side. He can feel the heat of his palm pressing briefly against his ribs, waist and hips, the way they dip and the way he pulls Louis closer by his arse before pulling away. 

He’s smooth, Luke is, knowing exactly how to come closer in a way that looks like dancing before his thigh slips close between Louis’ legs. Louis is bold enough to brave one, two quick grinds against any part of Luke that he can get, cursing their large headphones making it impossible to whisper anything in Luke’s ear. Instead their left with silence and their own pulse pounding through their ears. 

Louis loves it. Loves the way they get to be alone, but still surrounded by others. The way his dick can get hard without anyone noticing. 

Well, without anyone other than Luke noticing. 

That’s why he gets ahead of himself, intoxicated with the sound of his and Luke’s breathing, the sweat beading at his forehead, and the unpredictable press of Luke’s fingers against his flesh. He gives in, too, occasionally pulling at the hem of Luke’s shirt, making it look playful to anyone who may be paying attention. But the intent is clear; it’s clear when he oh so casually bumps against Luke’s chest and so casually nips at his shirt anywhere he can when they bounce against each other. 

Louis gets carried away, thinking ahead to the hammock that awaits them in the nook. Where they’d be shielded from prying eyes by plentiful foliage that would also swallow up any moans as the bass from the lawn stage would filter through. He’s thinking about it as he slips his thigh between Luke’s legs, using the stance to rub himself off against Luke’s thigh. He’s not paying attention to anything except the man in front of him, and the tangy smell of him, sweat, and deodorant and cologne all blending into an excruciatingly intoxicating scent. 

Louis pushes his face against the top of Luke’s chest, pretending to pull off a semblance of a dance-y headbutt or just-- anything-- that could come off as being carried away in the moment. But Luke pulls back, a sudden jerk of his head catching Louis off guard.

He doesn’t get any more context as Luke grabs his hand and quickly pulls him towards the exit. He can tell that Calvin and Oli are with them, he can feel his headphones being lifted off of his head, and reflexively he pushes at his fringe with his fingers. But even still, he’s not quite with it. He’s only had two beers today, and yet he’s feeling out of control.

Louis keeps blinking, trying to slow his pulse as his body catches up with them being out in the open again, Luke not being within arm’s reach as he strides off into the distance, an alert Otis following the group.

“What--” They’re going in the opposite direction from the hammocks, which is where they need to end up for Louis’ plan to work. Luke let go of his hand as soon as they stepped into the daylight, and his stupidly long legs give him an advantage as he speeds ahead of everyone quickly. He seems far too eager to get to wherever he's leading them and Louis has to half jog to catch up with him. 

“Luke, this is isn’t-- If this is payback it’s not funny.” He’s the one whinging now, he knows, Christ he knows but-- but there’s still a low hum in his veins, the expectation of getting to lick Luke’s neck clean from sweat still top of mind. He wants it, he’s not above begging for it, and they’re all headed in the opposite direction of the cosy, tucked away hammocks where he can get exactly that.

Luke just shakes his head. “Nah, it’s a better idea,” Luke says with a wink, and Louis blinks and nods, not even able to think of a clever response. He was the one leading this charge, and now Luke was the one leading the way, stalking towards the backstage entrance.

“Oh?”

Luke smiles wide enough for eyes to narrow. “Trust me.”

He's not used to letting go of control like that, at least not outside the bedroom, but Luke seems so confident and determined that Louis goes above with it. He's handed a pint of beer as they’re ushered past three security checks backstage and Otis salutes them, not needed for their safety while they’re in the secluded, secure part of the festival grounds. 

Oli’s found a football and kicks it ahead, Calvin doing his best to intercept and pass it back just as Louis continues to sip on his beer. They don't seem disturbed at all by the change in plans, or in Luke taking charge as they make their way up to their VIP suite, the one that has stood empty for the rest of the festival. Oli's brought the football and fake-serenades with a beer in hand as they wait for MGMT to take the stage.

Luke keeps disappearing and reappearing with trays of drinks and food, almost as if he’s setting them up to stay in the suite for the rest of the night. Louis tries not to overthink it, he’s supposed to trust him, after all, but he really bloody hopes Luke isn’t going to try and convince him to give that trailer a shot. That, he won’t do. Trust would be out the window, would get thrown off the tiny VIP suite balcony as soon as he got a chance if that's Luke's plan. He’s about to confront Luke about it all but the band starts playing, the heavy synth reverberating as Luke winks at him, grabbing his hand and pressing a kiss to the top of it. 

They leave halfway through the set, and Louis would like to say he’s paying attention to where they’re going except his stomach is full of beer and he’s got Luke’s broad back in front of him, the divot between his shoulder blades hypnotizing. 

“Are they catching up with us?” Louis asks, somewhat suspiciously as they pass through the Lawn stage security. It seems a bit too good to be true, shaking them off this easily, without a fight. And if they’ve got a window of time to abide to he’d rather know upfront.

The tip of Luke’s tongue presses out of his mouth briefly before he shakes his head. “They're waiting for Kendrick at the main stage. Don't want to miss a chance of running into him.”

“He's not on for another couple of hours is he?”

Luke shakes his head, “All the more reason to stay put and not risk wanderin’ off.”

He nudges Louis’ up the stairs to the stage, trying to stay out of the way of the roadies that are still carrying things on and off. Luke leans down to whisper, “All the more reason to stock them up with all the beer and food they could possibly need for the next, dunno, two hours?”

Louis nearly laughs at that, following Luke’s cue and stepping back behind the equipment cases that are bracketing the stage. Even though Luke’s behind him, and he still manages to lead the way with a push of his fingers against Louis’ hip, guiding past the crowd and farther back the stage.

“What's back there?” Luke asks, crowding behind Louis. His tone awfully innocent. He’d never shown an interest in actual stage logistics before.

“Just more cases I think,” Louis ventures a guess, and he seems to be proven right as they pass a stack of cases for the next performer nearly blocking their way entirely. Luke maneuvers them around the stack carefully, Louis having to watch his step as he’s still ahead and they’re plunged in more darkness. Normally there would be a backdrop separating the back of the stage from the front, but this band has opted for massive electronic screens, fully obscuring Louis and Luke from view.

“No one around?” Luke asks, but from the way his thumbs dip below the waistband of Louis’ shorts he already knows the answer.

Louis shakes his head while sucking in a breath, Luke’s pulled him close to his chest, and Louis barely has to lean back to be cradled full, weight carried by Luke’s arms. He tips his head back, allowing Luke to press a kiss against his mouth just as soon as his shorts and pants slide down his thighs. 

Louis tips his chin up, craning his neck so he can keep chasing Luke’s mouth even as Luke has his cock in hand, grip steady as he squeezes the base. Louis hums his approval; it won’t take much to get fully hard like this.

He does his best to rub against Luke’s groin as he eagerly presses back up against him. “Someone’s overdressed,” Louis says, biting his lip as Luke laughs, his chest jostling Louis as he’s leaned back against it.

“Not the best view but--” Luke starts, making do to undo his own shorts without disturbing Louis too much. He starts to say more but Louis is jostled from a sudden wall of sound reverberating around them as the band takes the stage, strumming out chords. They must not be far from the drummer judging from how every hit makes the hair on his neck stand up. "Sounds alright, innit?"

“Luke--” Louis starts before Luke crowds behind him again, this time his cock pressing slick and wet between Louis’ thighs. Way too wet… “Did you bring lube?”

Luke presses a kiss against Louis’ throat as he pushes harder against him. “Mhm.” 

“You planned this?” Louis asks, nearly incredulous. He squeezes his thighs tighter and is rewarded with a moan. It’s a bit of an awkward way to stand, but he’s as turned on as he could be, gripping himself with a steady hand as he tries to find his footing. Keeping his legs tight as Luke grinds against him, breath hot against his neck. 

He can even moan without any risk of anyone hearing him. He gives in and does, right then, testing it out, and it’s swallowed by guitar riffs and wailing vocals. “You’re-- a genius,” he manages to stutter out. 

They’re outdoors, if Louis closes his eyes he can pretend that he’s actually on stage, and he’s got Luke pressed against his back, on the brink of coming. It’s bloody perfect.

Luke’s fingers tighten around Louis’ hips and his movement get jerkier, less measured. Louis takes the opportunity to try and push back against him, arse bouncing against Luke’s groin. 

“Fuck me,” Luke grunts as he stills, come smearing allover Louis’ thighs. He’d complain normally, he might later, hold it over Luke to get his way, but for now he’s too turned on to think. He barely registers Luke disappearing and turning him around so he can take Louis’ cock in his mouth.

“Shit!” Louis gasps, shoulders trembling, chest too tight, too airy all at once as Luke’s tongue works over his slit. He could wail, maybe he does wail, he can’t hear it, just knows that his mouth has dropped open by the time he comes, Luke swallowing down every last bit.

“Shit,” Louis says again, practically toppling over on jelly legs. “You’re gonna have to carry me back, you know,” he says, having fingers making fists in Luke’s shirt as he pulls him back up. 

“Think I can handle it,” Luke teases, gripping under Louis’ arse and lifting him for a second before dropping him again. He’s wiggling his eyebrows although he slurs his words. Trying to be clever.

Louis will get him back. But for now he just hushes Luke as their shorts get pulled back on. He leans back against Luke’s chest once they’re decent, humming along to the music. They’re gonna enjoy this, first.


End file.
